This is War
by bemyryder
Summary: None of this was supposed to happen. The police weren't supposed to learn all that they did. Gus wasn't supposed to have gotten taken. Shawn wasn't supposed to have to watch his entire world shatter over and over again. Yet here they all were, only able to watch as everything they thought they knew turned out to be wrong. (Shawn x Gus whump. Rated T just in case.)
1. Chapter 1

Shawn knew Gus to be many things. A loyal best friend. A hard worker. A lover of Pluto. A family man. Someone Shawn always knew he could count on. Along with all of these other aspects of his friend's personality that Shawn knew to be true, Gus was never late. He was annoyingly always on time, which is just one other example of how the pair completed each other. Gus was on time. Shawn was late. Taking all of this into account, it didn't seem unreasonable to Shawn to call Jules when Gus still hadn't shown up to the Psych office that morning.

What else was he expected to do?

"Shawn, I can't file a missing person's report." Jules replied with a hint of annoyance in her voice. _She must be working on a tough case,_ Shawn thought as he threw a foam ball into the air so he could catch it.

Shawn clicked his tongue as the ball landed in his hands once more. "This isn't just some random person, Jules. It's Gus and he's missing _._ "

"He's _five_ _minutes_ late."

"But Gus is _never_ late." Shawn responded, not understanding why the female detective wasn't as worried as he was. She knew Gus just as well as he did. "I have a bad feeling."

He could hear the bustling of papers in the background behind her and he could faintly hear Lassie barking an order at McNab. "Look, Shawn, I don't know what to tell you. Maybe you should try calling _him._ I have to go."

As Shawn opened his mouth to utter a sarcastic reply, the line went dead. She must really be stressed. Shawn made a mental note to be extra nice to her the next time he saw her, maybe even flirt with her a little. Until then, Shawn decided to sit and watch a few reruns of _The Mentalist_. During the 2nd episode of his mini-marathon, Shawn's phone started ringing.

"Talk to me." He answered coolly when he saw Jules' face pop up on his caller id.

She took a deep breath. "Shawn, you should get down here now."

"Listen Jules, I don't want to burst your bubble but since you won't go look for my friend, I don't have a ride."

"McNab will be there in two minutes." She responded quickly as if predicting his next words.

Shawn furrowed his eyebrows and looked at the clock. The sinking feeling he felt earlier had returned when he noticed that an hour and a half had passed and Gus hadn't even graced him with a phone call. "Jules, what's going on?"

"It's Gus." She answered just as Buzz walked through the front door of the Psych Office. "We have reason to believe you two are being targeted."

It was silent for a second as Shawn thought back through the last few days. Sure, they had gotten close to disbanding a drug ring but after days of trying to find anything tangible to present to the chief, the case was dropped and all but forgotten by the police station. And sure, Shawn had made Gus go with him to one of the chemists behind the operation to scope it out of evidence, but they hadn't even found anything. That couldn't possibly be what this was about, could it?

Shawn swallowed as he heard Juliet's next words. "Shawn, they have him."

 **PsychPsychPsychPsych**

His walk into the station was full of sideways glances and sympathetic frowns, which made Shawn uncomfortable. He was never one to accept pity. Besides, they had no reason to pity him in the first place. Shawn was the reason this was happening. He dragged Gus there. He had lied and told him they were going to a new Taco place and then hadn't let Gus leave when he found out what they were really doing. He was the reason Gus was in trouble.

McNab led him straight to the Chief's office where both Juliet and Lassiter were sitting, both staring at different pictures from a crime scene. Shawn didn't even try to focus on them. His only mission was to get Gus back to safety. Whatever case those two were working on would have to wait. It didn't occur to Shawn that they were investigating Gus' kidnapping. In retrospect, Shawn realized it didn't matter much anyway. He would find Gus whether they helped him or not.

"What are we doing about this, Chief?" Shawn asked taking everyone by surprise. He was never one to get to business, instead choosing to take everything as a joke. But Gus' safety wasn't a joke, not to Shawn.

Lassiter was the first to speak. "What were you doing at Dan Capelli's estate yesterday?"

Shawn furrowed his eyebrows and pursed his lips, suddenly feeling the need to defend himself and Gus. "Investigating which is more than you can say you were doing."

"Yeah and look where that investigating got you." Lassie quipped, his frown seeming to deepen. Shawn felt himself frown before he turned towards the Chief.

"Is that who has Gus? Dan Capelli?"

"Mr. Spencer, take a seat." The chief motioned towards one the chairs. Shawn refused but eventually obliged when told the meeting would only start once he did. "As you know we've been looking into Dan Capelli's involvement in one of the largest drug traffic rings in the southern west coast."

Shawn nodded his head impatiently. "So you're saying he has Gus then? Why aren't we doing anything?"

"Shawn, you need to calm down and listen." Juliet murmured. Shawn had forgotten she was in the room and the second he heard her voice, anger started to bubble in his stomach.

"I _was_ calm almost three hours ago when I told you to start looking for him in the first place." He spat before turning back towards the Chief. He didn't want to see the sad look on her face when his words registered in her brain. He may have been mad but that could all go away with the right glance from Juliet. "Why isn't anyone doing anything? Shouldn't somebody at least be trying to get a hold of the National Guard or the President?"

Lassiter scoffed, Shawn turning just in time to see Lassiter shaking his head. The older man stood and threw the file he was holding so it landed in front of Shawn. "We received a call earlier to go down to the docks to make an exchange."

Shawn jumped up. "Great. What's he asking for?"

The room was silent, even the Chief choosing to allow Shawn to scan through the file and find the 911 report. Quickly, and without waiting for any sort of permission, Shawn began shuffling through the papers until he came across words that made the hair on his arm stand, although he'd never admit it.

 _Docks. 8:00pm. Bring your psychic. We'll bring his friend._

 **PsychPsychPsychPsych**

Alright, so this is just an idea that I'm not sure if I'm going to carry out or not. There are a lot of plot points I'll have to figure out before I can update it, but I wanted to upload this anyway. I'm in school but I'm going to try to get a chapter up once a week and if I can't do that, there'll be a chapter up every 10-11 days.

I hope you guys are enjoying the last of your summer (if it hasn't already ended). Please review and tell me what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

Shawn felt his mouth go dry as he read and reread the words on the paper. _Bring your psychic. We'll bring his friend._ It didn't matter how many times his eyes tried to find a different order in the words; they were always the same. There was no way the sentences could mean anything other than what they all thought.

Bring Shawn. We'll bring Gus.

It wasn't like Shawn had never thought through a situation where a hostage may be taken. That had always been a possibility but in every scenario Shawn had thought of, he was the hostage. Like it or not, his dad had equipped him with the skills necessary to make it out of a hostage situation. Shawn was confident he'd be okay and even if he weren't, he'd be fine with that.

But Gus didn't know what to do if they had him in the trunk of a car. Gus didn't know how to look around a room and find something – anything- that could help him get out of danger. Gus didn't know how to talk a criminal out of inflicting pain. Gus didn't know the things that Shawn did.

Shawn glanced around the room, trying to unread the words. Maybe if he could do that, Gus would just walk into the room and everything would be okay again. They'd go get pineapple smoothies and make comments about Lassie's new haircut.

It was Lassie who finally interrupted the long silence. "What did you find at that apartment, Spencer?"

" _Nothing._ " He mumbled, refocusing on the words printed on the piece of paper.

 _We'll bring his friend._

Shawn shook his head and looked over at the chief. "We entered, looked through his desk, didn't find anything and then left. We were there for ten minutes tops."

"Shawn, think really hard. What was on the desk? What did you find?" Juliet spoke up.

 _Focus Shawn._ _How many hats are the in the room?_

Shutting his eyes, Shawn tried his best to concentrate on the things he saw in Capelli's apartment. There were pictures on the wall of Capelli and some other men hunting, their shoes covered with dirt and mud. In the corner of the entryway, there was a purple mat with a pair of boots sitting on top of it. Capelli had a girlfriend. Shawn couldn't fathom how anyone would find anyone who likes killing animals for sport the least bit attractive.

 _That doesn't matter now._

On the table, there was a pile of envelopes that appeared to have been untouched, except for one brown one that had the address of a cable company on it. And in the closet, there were empty brown boxes. He was moving out and Shawn figured it was because he was moving into his girlfriend's place gradually.

Despite how dirty the man was in all of his pictures, there wasn't a single thing out of place in his office. The guy was a total neat freak. Even Gus had been impressed. Every receipt, every address, ever paper was in some sort of order whether alphabetical or based on importance.

On the wall, there was a giant picture of Capelli standing with what Shawn could only imagine was his mother and father. Despite how neat the man seemed to be, the picture was slightly crooked. . Shawn focused instead on what was inside the man's drawers. There were magazines – hunting ones- and some science newsletters.

But there was absolutely nothing in the room that could have pinpointed any sort of crime on the man – except maybe the killing of defenseless animals.

He opened his eyes and shook his head slowly. "We found absolutely nothing."

Shawn bit the inside of his mouth as he remembered how upset Gus had been when he found out they weren't at a new Taco place. He remembered how nervous Gus was about breaking into a suspected criminal's house. He remembered telling Gus not to be that last bit of melted ice cream at the bottom of the container. He remembered-.

 _Wait._

 _You bring your psychic. We'll bring his friend._

They don't want to hurt Gus. They don't even care about Gus because as far as they're concerned all Gus is, is an assistant. After all, Shawn is the psychic one. Shawn is the one who feels things. Gus is just some guy who tags along. Gus doesn't have to get hurt and neither does Shawn if they do this right.

"They want to do a trade." Shawn spoke, his voice even despite the small amount of fear that was racing through him. He wasn't sure if that was fear for himself or fear for his friend.

"Yes but Shawn," Juliet started only to be interrupted a few seconds later.

"Then we do the trade."

Lassiter rolled his eyes at the younger man's words. It wasn't hard to come to the conclusion that going to Capelli's was Spencer's idea. Every stupid idea the pair of idiots ever did was the work of Spencer's messed up mind. And as much as Lassiter may agree that Shawn should have been the one who was taken and not Guster, there was no way the chief of police would allow a civilian to be traded for another. Shawn was a liability. "Spencer, you're-."

"I'm not saying we actually do the trade." Shawn interrupted once more, earning a glare from Lassie. "I'm saying we make it look like we're doing the trade."

"And how do you suppose we do that?" Chief Vick asked, her eyes narrowed slightly as if she was considering his words.

Lassiter rolled his eyes as Shawn shrugged his shoulders. "We do one of those cool things that always happens on NCIS and CSI. We beat the guy at his own game and take him out before he catches the bait."

Just as Lassiter was about to interject, the Chief uttered a sentence that made Shawn's stomach do one of those flips. You know, the one when you know you're in danger of being embarrassed or – in this case – dying.

"That may work."

 **PsychPsychPsychPsych**

So there's chapter two. It's not very long but I'm actually really behind on some Chem homework and I'm super tired. I'm still not entirely sure where I'm going to go with this story, but I've decided to just figure it out along the way! :)

Also, I'm probably not going to update for at least a week because as I've said, I'm really behind in my chem class…. And guess who's terrible at Chem. That's right. Me. Anyway, please please please review! It'll make me want to finish my homework quicker so I can write another chapter sooner.

Thanks to everyone who's reading this! PLEASE REVIEW! And have a nice week!


	3. Chapter 3

Burton Guster considered himself to be an expert of many things. For starters, there was his expertise of coins. He could tell you who was on almost every coin ever made around the world. He was also an expert on zip codes and area codes. That had been a fun one to learn and it often came in handy during his and Shawn's cases. Gus was an expert with words; not the way Shawn was but certainly just as important. He took pride in his vast array of knowledge, much like anyone else who could be accurately described as a human encyclopedia, would.

But Gus wasn't an expert with life or death situations. He wouldn't even call himself an amateur. There was never a moment in his life when he thought, 'Hey, maybe I should learn to equip myself with skills to get out of danger if I'm ever kidnapped'. It just didn't seem like a practical skill. Even the times when he came face to face with death, it had never crossed his mind.

Gus looked around the empty, dark room. No. This, he wasn't an expert on. Definitely not.

"Look who decided to wake up?" A voice spoke softly from one of the corners. It was too dark for Gus to see anything but the man's silhouette.

Gus squinted and tried to imagine what Shawn would do in this situation. Of course, Shawn always saw things when he squinted. Gus didn't so he gave up trying and relaxed himself against the chair. He supposed that as long as the man stayed in his little corner, Gus would be fine. Taking deep breaths, Gus looked down at himself to see both of his feet tied against the legs of the chair, but that was all he could deduce. Shawn would have already figured out the man's entire life story. Frustrated, Gus looked up again.

The man walked into view and Gus started shaking. Gus showed his fear, while Shawn hid it and Gus hated it. He spent his entire life trying to be less like Shawn but the one time he needed to mimic Shawn, he couldn't stop shaking long enough to try.

The large man chuckled. "Don't worry, I don't have time to torture and kill you too. I just need your friend."

 _What would Shawn do?_

"I think what you really need is a breath mint." Gus commented, scrunching his nose up slightly. The pleasure he felt after adequately imitating his best friend soon faded when his chair was pushed backwards, sending his head into the concrete floor. He coughed a little before muttering, "or maybe a sense of humor."

"You think this is funny?" The man asked, his voice eerily calm. Gus shut his eyes and tried to level his breathing. Perhaps now wasn't the time to mimic Shawn's snarky behavior. He'd save that for later. Reevaluating the situation, Gus sighed and opened his eyes.

"Not really." Gus answered honestly, finding the man standing over him. Gus tried his best to focus despite the pounding headache he now had.

The man bent down and lifted Gus up so the chair was once again standing on all four legs. Gus' head slumped slightly but he made the effort to raise it so he could look at the man again. He looked familiar.

"That's the problem with you and your friend." The man started, interrupting Gus from his thoughts. "You think everything is a joke. You stumble across dead bodies and happenstances and you laugh about it."

"Well, you know what they say, 'laughter is the best medicine'." Gus quipped, earning a glare from the man. That was a Shawn thing to say and despite the fact that he decided not to emulate his friend, he found it hard to stop. Gus was angry with the whole situation. He had a route that if left incomplete, would be the reason he didn't have a job anymore. Shawn never hid his anger and Gus was seeing now that maybe it was because if you were angry, you never had time to focus on the fear.

Gus made the executive decision to keep being snarky.

The man seemed unphased by Gus' retort. Maybe he was a little annoyed at the interruption, but he was still calm. Gus wasn't sure if that was something he should worry about, but ultimately decided against it. Calm was good. Calm was better than boiling rage.

"Even this, you think is funny." The man observed and Gus shook his head. He didn't find this funny at all. "Maybe I don't have to make the trade."

Gus narrowed his eyes slightly as he thought over the man's words. "The trade?"

"You for him."

"Me for who?"

"Your friend."

Gus nodded his head. That made sense. Shawn was the one who solved the crimes, or at least that's what the newspapers seemed to think. Gus was the assistant. Still, Gus was insulted. He knew he shouldn't have been, but he was. Just because Shawn was the 'psychic' didn't mean Gus didn't work just as hard to solve the cases they were assigned.

 _Gus was the assistant._

"They're not going to make the trade." Gus said, mostly to himself even though the man was close enough to hear him. "I'm not important enough and technically Shawn is a civilian. They're not going to make the trade."

The man nodded calmly, again worrying Gus. "I thought that too but you see, that psychic is a very defiant person, isn't he? He's going to be there whether the police are behind the decision or not."

That was true. One of the things that made Gus like Shawn so much was that despite being a leach and a pain, Shawn was beyond loyal. He'd do anything to ensure Gus and the rest of his friends were safe. He'd risk his life to make sure someone he cared about survived. It was Shawn's fatal flaw and apparently everyone knew it.

Gus just hoped that Shawn was thinking through whatever plan he was coming up with.

 **PsychPsychPsychPsych**

Shawn was finding it hard to think straight. He was currently walking along the dock, waiting for someone to try to throw a sheet or something over his head. Despite how dangerous this mission was, the Chief was behind him one hundred percent.

There were five undercover officers pretending to be having a barbeque on one of the boats. Lassiter and Juliet were in a van parked as close to the docks as they could get. They could communicate with him through the earpiece Shawn was given. He also had a bulletproof vest on and a gun hidden in his sock. Shawn wasn't really sure how, in the face of danger, he could reach his sock in time to grab the gun and fire it, but it was cool nonetheless.

He truly felt like one of Charlie's Angels.

Shawn looked around the dock at each of the boats in view. One of them was the one already mentioned with the police officers on it. Another one was covered in slime and dirt. Shawn scrunched his nose before turning to glance back towards the city. The lights were starting to shine as the sun was almost below the horizon. Waves splashed around him and despite everything that was happening, Shawn allowed the sound to relax him.

"Where are they?" Lassiter questioned and Shawn could almost picture the older man's frown.

Shawn started to look around again. There was nobody out here. It was too cold and late for anyone to risk going out on the water, which Shawn figured is the reason the man chose the docks.

Shawn groaned and turned to face the city again. "Nobody is stupid enough to come sail right now."

"Nobody is going sailing, Spencer." Lassiter muttered, annoyed slightly at the man's voice. Shawn rolled his eyes.

"He's waiting for the dock to be clear."

"The dock _is_ clear." Lassiter urged, earning another eyeroll from Shawn.

Juliet spoke up. "No it's not."

"We're not getting rid of the cops. Chief Vick was very specific that-."

"She was also very clear when she said we should do all we can to save Gus." Shawn urged as he slowly began to walk back towards the city. The group of undercover policemen turned to watch him. "This is stupid. We need more time."

There was a loud buzzing noise coming through Shawn's earpiece and he instinctively brought his hand to his ear. "Jesus, what is that?"

Juliet took her earpiece out of her ear as she watched Carlton do the same. This was all too familiar and it made the hair on her arms stand up straight. Carlton was the first to move towards the van's door to open it. It was locked. This wasn't right. Juliet swallowed the lump in her throat as she turned back towards the screens.

Shawn was standing on the dock turning around in circles in a panic. Juliet wasn't sure why he was so nervous. Nothing appeared to be wrong on the screen, until she saw the blood coming from the boat where the cops had been partying. That wasn't right either.

"Carlton." Juliet voiced, pulling the man's attention away from trying to get the door open. She heard him come up behind her and breathe out a string of curse words.

Within seconds, a man in an all black outfit came out of one of the boats. Shawn turned towards him and Juliet watched in horror as the man pulled a gun out and fired it at Shawn's unprotected leg. Her friend fell to the floor, his hand raised in surrender.

Shawn had been shot before and he hated it so much he decided to try his best never to let that happen again. Granted, that wasn't necessarily under his control at all, but it was a goal he vowed to keep. The first time he was shot, he passed out shortly after. This time, though, he was fully alert as he watched the man start walking towards him. The pain in his leg wasn't subsiding any time soon so rather than try to fight, Shawn put his arms in front of him in an effort to make the man see that he wasn't going to try anything.

"Shawn Spencer." The man uttered, a small smile creeping onto his face. Shawn fought the urge to roll his eyes despite the man's stereotypical actions.

There was something not quite right about this, besides the fact that everything that had happened in the last minute had gone completely against the plan. Shawn couldn't decide what it was. Maybe it was the fact that the man he had seen in all of those pictures was never on or near the water. Or maybe it was the fact that Dan Capelli couldn't have been any more than 30 years old yet the man standing in front of him had to be at least 35 years old.

He didn't have time to say to do anything with this information because within seconds, the man conveniently dropped some sort of metal on Shawn's head and his world went black.

 **PsychPsychPsychPsych**

 **Yay! So I updated within 7 days, which would have been impressive had I actually made an attempt to do my chemistry homework. I actually finished this chapter yesterday but apparently there was some sort of glitch on the site so I couldn't. Luckily, it's fixed now, so here's chapter 3!**

 **I'm going to try to have an update for you by Monday but don't be sad if I don't update then! I really like writing this story.**


	4. Chapter 4

"How did this happen?" The chief asked as she finished watching the recording of the day's earlier events. Juliet sat staring at the screen, the video paused on the moment just after the man knocked Shawn unconscious.

Lassiter, too, was unable to process what happened. Not because he particularly cared about Shawn Spencer, but because you had to be really smart to execute that plan. Not only would you have to be able to hack into their police van's system to lock the doors, but you also had to get into the boat undetected; not to mention the fact that the man was able to shoot seven police officers, who were trained and ready to fire. He didn't even have a scratch on him. Lassiter shook his head and returned his attention towards the Chief.

Seeing as how Juliet remained silent, Lassiter decided to explain the situation. "He locked us in the van."

"It happened so fast." Juliet mumbled, looking down at the hands she had folded in her lap. Lassiter frowned at his distraught partner, but remained silent. It _had_ been fast. One second Spencer was under his skin, the next he was on the ground seemingly begging for his life.

"I don't think I need to tell you how important this case now is." The Chief continued, her face remaining strong despite how shaken the videotape had made her. "It is now priority one. I want those two men back here, alive, within the next two days. You are to use every resource we have available to us and you stop at nothing. Do I make myself clear?"

Both Lassiter and Juliet nodded before standing up. There was a familiar voice yelling down the hall, making Juliet pale. Henry was here, screaming about how stupid of an idea it was to risk his only son's life. The Chief shooed them out of her office and motioned for Henry to join her.

Juliet thanked the heavens that she didn't have to be in that room.

 **PsychPsychPsychPsych**

Gus couldn't remember when he had passed out. He remembered the man leaving Gus in the room by himself, but that had only lasted a few minutes. Just when Gus figured he should try to deduce something, much like Shawn always did, another man walked into the room holding a wooden stick.

Waking up was a different story entirely.

He was sure no matter how hard he tried to forget the pain in his head and abdomen the memory would always be there. Blinking a few times to adjust to the little light that reached his eyes, Gus raised his head slowly. He was alone.

Groaning, he squinted his eyes in an attempt to get his head to stop pounding. He could only assume from the stiffness of the skin above his right eyebrow, that there was some dried blood covering it. Not sure who's blood it was, Gus started to panic. Looking around frantically, his breathing started to quicken and the palms of his hands were getting increasingly sweaty.

 _Breathe._

He tried, and failed, to get out of the rope that bound his hands behind his back. The more he struggled, the more his heartbeat raced. His airway felt tight and he was starting to get lightheaded.

What if he never made it out? What if they got Shawn? What if nobody noticed that Gus had been taken? What if-?

The door opened suddenly, distracting Gus momentarily from his panic. It quickly returned, though, when the man with the wooden stick walked into the room briskly.

 _Breathe._

"Welcome back." The man's voice filled the room and Gus couldn't help but find his annoyance for the man overpower his fear of the situation. Gus held onto the anger, hoping it'd keep his anger from returning. "I think I may have hit you a bit too hard."

The man was smirking. He was teasing Gus. "What gave that away? The blood?"

"From what I hear, your friend is a little tougher than you are." The man continued, as if Gus hadn't uttered a single word. He did, however, smirk when he noticed the hostage gulp. "It took him a bit longer to finally pass out."

"You have Shawn?" Gus asked, trying his best to swallow, despite losing the ability to breathe once more. Worry clouded his mind as he could only imagine how pissed off Shawn had made this guy. The man nodded and remained silent as Gus strung together pieces of random information. "Then why am I still here?"

Gus' vision clouded slightly as the man seemed to have lost patience and decided to punch Gus in the face. Having trouble holding his own head in place, he felt the man wrap his hand around Gus' chin to hold his head at eye level. Gus blinked a few times before his vision was able to return to normal, the man's fingers still squeezing his cheeks.

"Let's see if you can stay conscious longer this time, shall we? I don't like to lose a bet."

Gus fought the urge to reply. He knew anything he said would only cause the man to hit him harder.

Gus could only hope his friend was doing better.

 **PsychPsychPsychPsych**

It was peaceful, almost utopic. The dark that had enveloped him after he had been hit in the head was inviting and soft. He didn't have any pain in the dark. It was just dark. Relaxing. He didn't want to leave, although he felt himself slowly fading.

Normally, in any other situation, Shawn would have fought harder against the blackness. He'd have tried desperately to regain consciousness. But when he was awake, pain seemed to come from all angles, threatening to cut Shawn to the core. He made a pact to stay in the blissful dark forever, only coming out when he was certain he was safe and the pain would end.

Shawn focused on his breathing. In and out. It was easy. Because there was nothing to be afraid of. Nobody could hurt him in the dark. Nobody could touch him. He was free in the dark. He was at peace.

But unfortunately for Shawn, someone didn't want him to feel pleasure. They wanted to wake him from his serenity and inflict more pain than Shawn already had to bear.

Suddenly, he felt cold.; too cold for comfort and the darkness began to fade.

 _No. Come back… please._

As the darkness became light, Shawn peeled his eyes open begrudgingly, to find himself surrounded by ice-cold water. He couldn't breathe and he couldn't move. There was a force holding him beneath the water. What was the point in even taking Shawn if they were just going to the extremes of kidnapping him, if they were just going to dispose of his body in a lake?

It didn't make any sense. Shawn just hoped it wouldn't take too long. He wanted to be in the dark again. He was safe there and he was happy to find it slowly enveloping him again.

Just as he was about to return to the bubble of unconsciousness, his head was yanked back above the water. He was disappointed to find that he was not drowning in a lake. He was in some sort of cabin, sitting in front of a bucket of ice water. As if his body finally caught up to his thoughts, he started coughing furiously, trying to fill his lungs with air.

"Hello again." A man with a mustard yellow shirt said, as Shawn continued gasping for air. "We lost you for a minute there."

He tried to mutter something in response, but his lungs were still too desperate for air to do anything but cough. It wasn't until the choking finally subsided that he was reminded of the pain in his leg. Moaning, he leaned his head against the edge of the bucket, his eyes closed, and tried to will the pain to stop.

"Mr. Spencer, I must say I'm a little disappointed with your performance tonight." Mustard man cooed. Shawn heard him stand up but his eyes remained closed. "I was told you'd be more of a challenge."

Shawn rolled his eyes. Of all things Shawn had bee called in his life, challenging had to be the most recurring. "So you've talked to my dad."

Mustard man laughed. Colonel Mustard. "There's the Shawn I was promised."

"Happy to appease." Shawn muttered, finally opening his eyes. The pain was still in his leg and he gave up trying to get it to go away. He didn't see much of a point to trying anyway. Within minutes, maybe an hour or two tops, Lassiter would storm into the room screaming 'SPBD' and Shawn would be free. Either that, or Shawn would be dead and the pain would subside.

"Pardon me, I'm being a terrible host, aren't I?" Col. Mustard bent down and rubbed Shawn's forehead with a napkin. "That's better, right? Anything else I can do for you?"

Shawn shrugged his shoulders slightly. "Maybe we could get takeout. I know the perfect place. Dial 9-1-1 and ask for a Detective Lassiter. It goes _great_ with a side of justice."

Col. Mustard wasn't impressed, even after Shawn flashed him his famous snarky smile. Shawn's smile faded and he turned away, feeling uncomfortable with the man's glare. "You know, your dad is very worried about you."

Shawn's head whipped back towards the other man, but he remained cool. The man would _not_ find out what made Shawn tick quite so easily. He had to work for it. "You obviously don't know my dad."

"Don't I?" Mustard asked, his head cocking to the side slightly. "I know he's in the station yelling at the girlfriend of yours."

"She's not my girlfriend." Shawn responded, feeling like a complete idiot afterwards. However true his statement was, Shawn felt like a fifth grader saying it. Next, he'd be describing the girl as cootie-filled. Mustard made a noise in response, but didn't say anything else. "How do you know he's in the station?"

"Oh, that's where all of your friends are. Well, except the chocolate one, of course." Shawn felt himself stiffen as he watched Col. Mustard walk over to a table. He picked up a bottle and a piece of white cloth. "It's a little cliché, don't you think? White guy with a black sidekick."

Shawn narrowed his eyes. "What did you do to Gus?!"

"I mean no offence. It just seems overdone, you know?" The man continued, ignoring Shawn's grunts as the man tried to stand up. Col. Mustard laughed at the failed attempt. "C'mon Shawn. You have to try a little harder than that."

"Where's Gus?" Shawn demanded, falling back down to the floor. Considering he hadn't been able to move much, he didn't really fall far before he reached the ground, but it still hurt like hell. "This was a trade. What did you do to Gus?"

Shawn couldn't stop the man as he walked closer. He couldn't even move out of the way as the man reached towards his face, the cloth in his had. Shawn tried to squirm but there was no way he could push the cloth away from his face and within seconds, it was smothering him. He couldn't resist and he couldn't keep his eyes open. This time, he didn't want to be in the dark and he fought to stay present – to stay aware.

It was a losing battle and he felt his eyelids begin to droop, his legs losing feeling. The last thing he heard before he fell into unconscious were three words that would stay with him until the day he died.

"Gus is dead."

 **PsychPsychPsychPsych**

 **DUN DUN DUNNNNNNNNNNNN! Please review! I procrastinated so much to get you guys this chapter and it'd mean so much to me if you could leave me a review. I know it may be annoying to do so, but it means so much to me and it helps me by inspiring me to write some more.**

 **Please Please Please!**

 **Love you guys!**


	5. Chapter 5

Juliet considered herself to be a fine police officer. She wasn't the greatest, but she did all she could to be as good as she possibly could be. With her past behind her, Juliet was able to focus entirely on her career, which was great because she was good at her career. It's part of the reason why she was able to move to Santa Barbara and work directly with the department's head detective. It's why people took her seriously. It's why she put her social life on the back burner. Nothing mattered unless it was work related. And everything was perfectly fine.

But then Shawn had entered her work life and broken down the walls until he was also part of her personal life. He respected her for her work ethic and admired her for her charisma and charm. He made her feel good about herself in all aspects of her life.

He made her feel understood.

Sure, they had had a rocky relationship filled with bad timing. He was never available when she was ready for him and she was never available when he was ready for her. They were stuck in a cliché rom-com, unable to break the cycle. But that didn't mean it'd never break. Or at least it didn't, until this very moment.

"O'Hara, did you get me those license plates?" Lassiter voiced as he walked back into the room with a different file in his hand. The room was bustling with energy, an energy that Juliet couldn't quite appreciate. They were scared and Juliet needed them to be confident. "O'Hara."

Juliet looked up from her desk and over to her partner. He was standing in front of her, his face pulled down in a frown that hadn't gone away since they got back from the pier. She blinked a few times before looking back at her computer. "No matches. It's a fake plate."

"We're going to find them." Lassiter mentioned as he started walking back over to his own desk.

Juliet was an optimistic person despite her career. She took pride in it. But even has she processed his words; she couldn't help but think that they weren't true. Every lead they had had proven to be a dead end. Every step they took, it seemed only a matter of seconds before a gust of wind would blow them two steps back. It was exhausting and excruciating.

"Detectives." The chief called as she poked her head out of her office. She motioned for Juliet and Carlton to join her and they followed. Henry was sitting in a chair, his hand to his face. Juliet made it a point to not sit in the chair next to him. If he broke down, she'd break down and that wouldn't help Shawn or Gus in the slightest.

"Jesus." Carlton breathed out and Juliet couldn't figure out why. She looked towards he partner, someone she hoped she could call a friend, and found him staring at a screen on Vick's desk.

Juliet gasped. On the screen was a picture of Gus, tied to a chair and gagged with a white cloth. He was bleeding and sweating, but what stuck out to Juliet were the tears rolling down his face. He looked so helpless. She could only imagine what they had done to him.

Below his picture was a message.

 _Shame he has to die for someone else's mistakes. He wasn't even the Romeo._

 **PsychPsychPsychPsych**

Shawn's eyes opened slowly, still drowsy from what he could only assume was chloroform. He wasn't sure how much time had passed but it was enough to have switched locations completely. He was no longer in a cabin, but instead in what looked to be like the living room of a small apartment complex. He tried to scan the room but he couldn't focus. His vision was still cloudy and his mind kept jumping all over the place.

What happened to the warehouse?

He heard something crash in the kitchen but it didn't hold his focus. There was a metallic taste in his mouth and a chemical smell in the air. He wished he could go back in time and smell the pancakes his dad had made the morning before this all happened.

Why was he in an apartment?

His eyes drooped slightly and he had to fight to make sure they stayed open. As much as he wanted to fall into oblivion again, he knew the only way he could save Gus was to make sure that he stayed awake. Without so much as a second thought, Shawn held his eyes open, scanning the room slowly, his head beginning to pound.

There was an unopened bag of chips on one of the couches. Lays. Gus would approve. _That's irrelevant._

Turning his head, he saw that the television was on and muted. Whoever was in the kitchen was watching the news station without the hot weather woman. _Still irrelevant._

Groaning out of frustration, Shawn decided to start with something simple. He was tied to a wooden chair. The ropes were digging into his skin harshly but they didn't hurt as much as his leg did. The bullet hole in his thigh was wrapped in a white cloth, the bloodstain on it dark. It was dry. Another cloth was twisted slightly higher on his leg and Shawn could only assume it was meant to act as a tourniquet. Licking his lips, Shawn looked back towards the chips. He wished Gus were there with him so they could join forces and try to grab a snack.

Shawn's stomach growled spitefully, making Shawn's eyes close slightly.

Where was Gus anyway? The last Shawn had heard about Gus was that he-.

 _Fuck._

Shawn felt a pulling in his stomach that had no relation to any of his physical injuries. Gus was dead. Suddenly Shawn was finding it hard to breathe. It felt like someone was suffocating him. He felt sweat start to accumulate on his face and neck. Now it felt like someone was holding him under water.

Shawn shut his eyes. Gus was dead.

He'd been too late. Gus was dead.

He tried his hardest but it wasn't enough. Gus was dead.

Gasping, Shawn opened his eyes when he heard the door shut. Another man walked up to him but Shawn couldn't tell if he was Col. Mustard or someone else. His vision was clouding once again and he was finding it hard to focus his vision on anything. The men around him were talking but their words weren't registering. They sounded like they were whispering.

Gus was dead.

Shawn felt a pool of water rush over his head and he coughed against it, trying to get it out of his mouth and nose. The cold feeling of the water calmed him down slightly and he could now see and hear the two men surrounding him.

"You're not as tough as we thought you were." He heard one of them say as he coughed some more.

Gus was dead. That was all that mattered. Shawn was alive.

But Gus was dead.

 **PsychPsychPsychPsych**

Gus blinked a few times, adjusting to the harsh light. He didn't recognize the area he was in. It seemed different but he couldn't tell why. The man who was previously holding the stick was sitting on a couch, his eyes closed.

 _The couch is new._

Gus blinked a few more times. No wonder he didn't recognize this place. They had moved him. He wasn't in a warehouse. He was in a rundown apartment. He wanted to kick himself for not realizing it sooner, but his feet were tied to the legs of the chair.

The television set was on, the volume very low. He could only hear every other word, but he knew what they were talking about. Psychic Detective Shawn Spencer and his partner Bruton Gastor had been kidnapped. Gus glared at the television. His name was Burton Gustor. It wasn't a hard name. Why couldn't anyone get it right?

He blamed Shawn.

In fact, he blamed Shawn for a lot of things. For starters, he blamed Shawn for his lack of professional advancement. If it weren't for his immature friend, he would probably have advanced to CEO of his company. There was also his current situation he was in. Looking around with a tiny glare, Gus cursed his best friend's name.

This was because of Shawn. He was hurt because of Shawn.

A woman interrupted his thoughts as she walked into the room. The man with the stick opened his eyes and stood up immediately. So she's calling the shots. Gus redirected his anger from Shawn to the woman. Sure, she was attractive and yeah, if he had seen her in a bar he would try his best pickup line, but that was irrelevant.

"So Gus-. Can I call you Gus?" She tilted her head and Gus couldn't help but find her irresistibly adorable. Shaking his head, he replaced his awe with a glare. "Well, I'm going to call you that anyway."

"Only friends call me Gus." He mentioned, finding courage to speak. He was disappointed that he needed the courage to avoid making an embarrassment of himself and not because he was scared for his life.

The woman tilted her head again, a small smile playing at her lips. "We aren't friends?"

"Where's Shawn?"

"Answer mine and I'll answer yours."

Gus pursed his lips and shook his head. "No, I don't normally consider people who tie me to chairs to be my friend unless it's for some sort of awesome race." He tried to imagine what Shawn would say but came up empty. He was having trouble imitating Shawn.

"Oh Gus," the woman started, a look of disappointment on her face. "I really wish you would have said yes."

With that said, she motioned to the man behind her and he slowly approached Gus. The smaller man gulped as the man threw the stick behind him. Why did he do that? It was easier and faster to hit Gus with the stick.

The man chuckled as he grabbed a knife from his back pocket. He wanted it to be slow. He wanted it to be painful. Gus gulped once more before the man pressed the knife into his right arm.

Gus screamed out in pain, his screams drowned by the sound of female laughter.

 **PsychPsychPsychPsych**

 **Thanks so much for all of the reviews on the last chapter. It'd mean so much if you could also review this chapter! I just love reading them so much and they make me want to write more. I'm so happy you guys are enjoying this story so far. It's been really fun to write.**

 **Thanks again and please don't forget to review!**


	6. Chapter 6

Gus' screams subsided as the man stepped back. His shirt was an ugly yellow, making Gus immediately think back to the expired mustard that Shawn refused to throw out. His nose scrunched as the memory of the smell invaded his mind. Gus was so wrapped up by the shirt, he hadn't even realized that the woman was now standing directly in front of him.

He felt her touch his face before he even registered how close she was. Come to think of it, he didn't really know where the guy went. He made a mental note to think of a clever name for the guy once he could think straight. The thought made Gus wonder if he'd ever think straight again. He wasn't sure how much time he had left.

"Burton Guster." The lady started, a smirk crossing her lips. "Gus."

"I said only my friends call me that." Gus quipped, his eyes narrowing slightly. He didn't like repeating himself.

"M.C. Clap your hands?" She offered.

Gus frowned.

"What about Peter Panic?"

Gus glared.

"No? Dr. Mc-" She made a few clicks with her tongue. "Tock?"

Gus shifted uncomfortably. This lady knew too much. "You've made your point."

"I'm going to need some information, Gus." The lady cooed, her fingers brushing across his face. Gus shivered. "You see, I've been watching you guys for a while now."

"Clearly." He managed even though her nails were now brushing against his cheekbone.

She continued as if he hadn't spoken. "You guys are impressive. Shawn divines words and phrases and you translate them. It's _extraordinary_."

"What does that have to do with you?"

A dark chuckle escaped her lips. "You'll see in time."

 **PyschPsychPsychPsych**

Lassiter sat at his desk staring holes through the report in front of him. He willed the words to swirl around the page and spell out exactly who had his two pain-in-the-necks. Unfortunately he didn't have that power. The words and letters remained stationary on the paper and he remained frustrated.

Juliet hurried past him, carrying a few files of her own. They had spent the last three hours looking through old case files in an attempt to figure out who was seeking revenge through Shawn and Gus. During the second hour, Lassiter began to realize that it just didn't make sense.

In public, Lassiter made it very clear that he despised the two men. Holding them hostage in an attempt to get under Lassie's skin – however effective it was now proving to be – made no sense. Juliet hadn't been working for the SBPD that long and she wasn't the type of cop to make enemies. She empathized with the criminals.

It didn't make sense.

Groaning, Lassie slammed his file closed and stalked towards the coffee car. He needed a new focus.

While he and Juliet obviously weren't the targets of this particular situation, Lassiter couldn't say for certain that Gus and Shawn hadn't have pissed someone off enough to make them want to kidnap and torture them. They were rather annoying after all and they did things – like sneak into a known criminal's office space – that would inevitably catch up to them.

But still, Spencer was harmless. He was smart and aggravating but the only time he ever ended up in trouble was when he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. And this isn't what had happened. Shawn was called out. Again.

Lassie sipped his coffee slowly as he sat down. What was the timeline? What did he know for sure?

Dan Capelli was thought to have been involved in Ralph Sengetto's drug ring. Dan was the chemist, the man behind the making of the drugs. A kid had been caught in school with said drugs and he ratted out his dealer who then ratted out Dan. Dan then disappeared.

Shawn and Gus, unhappy with the fact that Dan could not be incriminated, snuck into the man's apartment to find evidence. Lassie assumed Shawn would later 'divine' this evidence, but that was neither here nor there. Both men leave the apartment unharmed.

Gus is then kidnapped. Shawn calls the police station and isn't taken seriously until a note comes, asking for Shawn to be traded for Gus. Plan goes wrong. Shawn gets taken by a man smart enough to outwit most of the force. A picture gets sent to the chief saying that Gus is going to die for someone's mistake even though he's not Romeo.

Lassiter had since deduced that Romeo referred to Shawn.

Before he could truly piece anything else together, he and Juliet were being called back into the Chief's office. She shut the door behind them quickly and then proceeded to sit back in her chair. Lassiter looked outside to see Henry sitting at one of the recently vacated desks, looking fiercely at a file that was resting in front of him.

He turned back towards the Chief, who was now turning her computer screen around so they could both see. Carlton waited for the woman to press play although he was pretty sure what the video was going to show.

Shawn was sitting on a chair gasping for air. His face was red and full of sweat. About seven seconds in, the man looked to start hyperventilating and a bin of water was dumped over his head. His breathing slowed slightly but was still rather heavy. He was panicking. A few seconds later, the video stopped.

Lassiter swallowed harshly finding his own heart rate increasing. He looked over at Juliet who was now standing with wide eyes, her hand over her mouth.

"Are we tracing these emails?" Carlton asked as he stared at the paused video. The man in the chair didn't even look like Shawn. His face was much too pale and his normally greased-up hair was now flat against his forehead, not to mention how still the man was besides his heavy breathing. He had a gash on his forehead that had produced some dry blood on the side of his face, but the water that had been dumped over his head washed a lot of it away.

Whoever the man on that chair was, Carlton didn't recognize him.

"Of course we are." The Chief spoke, her eyes shifting between her two best detectives. "In the mean time, I need you to look back into all of your past cases. Henry's too. Maybe even some of mine. We need to know _why_ this is happening."

Juliet nodded, finally regaining her composure. "On it. I'll take Henry's."

"I don't think I need to tell you to use discretion when discussing this case with Henry." Karen warned as she turned her monitor so it was facing her again. "He isn't officially working this case. Do I make myself clear?"

Lassiter blinked a few times but nodded anyway. Knowing Henry, he'd find some way to get the information he wanted. He was like his son in that way, or maybe it was the other way around. Regardless, the two Spencers were pains.

"Carlton." Juliet voiced as soon as they left the office. "This paperwork is getting us n-."

Carlton nodded, motioning for Juliet to grab the squad keys. "We'll give Buzz the files and then we're heading to the dock. We need to look at the abduction itself."

Juliet nodded, for once agreeing with going behind the Chief's back. She'd follow the rules if it meant that Gus and Shawn would be alright.

 **PsychPsychPsychPsych**

 **No Shawn in this chapter! Sorry about that! He'll be in the next one quite a bit, unfortunately for him. :P**


	7. Chapter 7

About five minutes later, Shawn was able to manage his breathing. It wasn't as hard to get air into his lungs as it had been before and he was appreciative of that fact. Now, he was just exhausted and wanted nothing more than to curl up on the couch that was sitting across from him and fall into an endless sleep.

The water that had been dumped on him wasn't drying as quickly as he would have liked and he couldn't stop shivering. Looking down at his leg again, he noticed that more of the white cloth that was covering his wound had turned red. He pursed his lips and looked at the rest of himself. His shirt was plastered to his skin thanks to the impromptu shower he had been subjected to. Other than that, he seemed pretty fine.

Colonel Mustard was standing by the door to the kitchen talking into a phone. He seemed worried about something. Maybe the cops had figured something out. Shawn hoped they did. In fact, he was absolutely confident they knew _something_ now. Lassie and Jules were good at what they did. If anyone could find Shawn, he knew it'd be them.

Shawn squinted as he tried to focus on Mustard's words. "He _panicked."_

Shawn swallowed harshly. So he wasn't worried about the cops finding out. He was worried about Shawn's mental stability. Shawn's eyes fell to the floor as his blinking became slightly slower. He wished he could just go to sleep and he no longer saw the point of staying conscious.

He had failed his mission. Lassie and Jules had no leads that were good enough to worry Mustard. What was the point in fighting if the life that was left for him was so utterly _pointless._

Shawn shut his eyes and moments later fell into unconsciousness, his mind searching for a happy memory to dream about. No happy memories came.

 **PsychPsychPsychPsych**

Juliet squinted against the harsh sun, her eyes watering slightly. She'd forgotten her sunglasses on her desk in her effort to leave the precinct without being seen by Vick. They were currently standing in the same spot Shawn had been standing about twelve hours ago. There were a few spots of dried blood that you would only see if you were looking for them.

Juliet shivered as her mind returned to those few brief minutes when she had to watch Shawn helplessly from the safety of a police van. He must have been confused when herself and Carlton hadn't jumped out to his rescue.

"So what do we know?" Carlton asked needlessly. Juliet was already thinking the same thing.

Shawn was standing _here,_ talking to them about how they needed to lose the extra police. He turned around and started walking away when the man jumped out of the boat. That's when Lassiter started trying to kick down the door of the police van. The police were shot. Shawn was shot maybe 10 seconds later. Another 20 seconds and Shawn was being dragged down the dock and towards a car with no plates. 45 seconds after that, they had been let out of the van, unable to see where the other car had gone.

Juliet frowned. "We should have made sure that Gus was with him before we left Shawn out here on the dock."

"That doesn't matter now and it will never matter if we just figure this all out." Carlton urged. "Now what do we _know?"_

Shawn was standing here, talking to them. He mentioned needing to get rid of the police. He turned around and began his walk to the van. The man jumped out of the boat and-.

"He was waiting for Shawn to turn around." Juliet mentioned, her voice picking up as her thoughts began to pick up momentum. "He was waiting for a moment where he wouldn't be seen."

Carlton nodded, seemingly unimpressed with that information. "Most criminals prefer to remain unseen when committing their crimes."

"But why was he so careful about _Shawn_ seeing him?" Juliet pressed, a small smile creeping onto her face. She wasn't sure whether showing pride was something she shouldn't be doing in this situation, but she was on to something. They both knew it now.

"He knew where our cameras were so that wasn't a problem for him." Carlton continued for her.

"If Dan Capelli had done this, he wouldn't have cared if he was seen or not because there was already reasonable doubt. It doesn't take an expert to deduce that we thought Capelli was behind this." Juliet spoke, her eyes wandering around the dock.

"All it would take was one word from Spencer and we'd know exactly who was on the dock, which is why he had to knock him out, even though Spencer was already holding his arms up in defeat."

"Shawn _knew_ this guy." Juliet finished, her smile fading only to be replaced by a look of concentration. "And this guy _knew_ that Shawn knew him."

Lassiter dialed a few numbers on his phone. "McNab, look through ever file that Shawn has ever been a part of and cross reference the suspects and witnesses with cases that were worked on before he began working for us."

The two detectives began to job back up the dock towards their car. Juliet buckled her seatbelt with a new sense of confidence. "Good work O'Hara."

And she knew it was. She did well.

 **PsychPsychPsychPsych**

Somewhere in between nightmares, Shawn felt another rush of water falling over him and he was forced to pry his eyes open again. As bad as the nightmares were, being awake was worse. Once the water stopped, Shawn looked up to see Colonel Mustard standing before him. He had a bit of blood on his fingers and Shawn instinctively looked down at his bullet wound to see if it was bleeding again. It wasn't. His face still felt stiff so he knew that blood had long since dried.

"Mr. Spencer." Colonel mustard began, his voice hard. "I'm sorry I have to do this."

Shawn coughed. "Well, technically, you don't _have_ to."

"We've already come this far." The man reasoned.

Shawn glanced over his face. He didn't seem _crazy,_ just determined, which meant that Shawn could try to talk him down. He looked familiar, but not in the we-went-to-high-school-together sort of way. Maybe it was because the man was white with brown hair. Everyone seemed to be these days. Sticking out of the man's pocket was a small piece of metal. A knife, Shawn supposed although the tip was hiding behind the fabric of the man's jeans.

"I won't judge you for giving up." Shawn's head tilted as he again met the man's gaze. "I give up quite a lot. Well, I don't _give up_ so much as I get bored, but I guess nobody but me differentiates the two. You know, I'm sensing that you want to return me to the police right now. I guess that makes us pretty similar because I'd like tha-."

Shawn was interrupted by the man's fist colliding with his right cheekbone. _Well now his face had fresh blood on it._

"Anyone tell you you talk too much?" The man asked and Shawn couldn't help but smirk. _Everybody_ told him that.

Despite the fact that he had just had maybe a gallon of water dumped over his head, Shawn's lips started to chap. He licked them quickly before trying his best to smile cockily. "It's come up once or twice."

The man huffed and turned around. He may have been tied to a chair but Shawn won _that_ battle. Now if he could just focus on something other than the man, then maybe he stood a chance of getting out of there. As much as Shawn would have wanted to switch places with Gus, he knew it wasn't a possibility. He also knew that Gus would not have wanted him to give up. That wasn't out of selflessness. No, it was because Gus had always said that if he died first, he wanted his funeral to be epic and the only person who could possibly pull that off was Shawn.

In fact, Gus had requested he script a Eulogy back when they were in high school. Shawn, of course, obliged after some pestering on Gus' end and the next day, he'd been handed back his draft with red pen marks all over the place. Gus wanted his funeral to not only be epic, but also grammatically correct. Shawn wanted to smile at the memory, but he didn't.

Narrowing his eyes, Shawn began to look around the room. There was a window behind the couch which he could theoretically jump out of if he could reach it, but there was a pretty high chance they were in a room much to high to jump from. _Moving on…_

Colonel Mustard was checking his phone periodically. He was waiting for a call. So he was either waiting for orders or waiting to see if his orders had been followed. Shawn was eager to figure out which option it could possibly be but ended up distracted by the knife in the man's pocket.

It had two drops of blood on it that Shawn could see, which suggested it had been used recently, maybe even within the last hour. He looked down at himself once more, but again didn't see anything other than where he'd been shot, which could only mean….

Shawn gulped and felt his breathing pick up again. _Not right now…._

"What is it _now_?" The man turned, moving his phone to his side as he looked tiredly at Shawn. Apparently, Shawn was making more noise trying to breathe than he thought. Still, he couldn't get the air into his lungs fast enough and he could feel beads of sweat return to his face.

"The knife." Shawn managed to spit out, even though his vision was getting blurry and he couldn't get it to stay still. The world was spinning again. "Gus."

He heard the word "pathetic" muttered a few times but other than that, he wasn't sure what the man had said. He was positive, though, that he heard a door slamming shut.

He scrunched his eyes shut and tried to focus on his breathing. _In and out. In. Out._ It seemed to work well enough because within minutes, Shawn's breathing was fine again and he was able to think straight.

When he opened his eyes again, Colonel Mustard was gone and Shawn was able to conduct his little investigation in peace, even though exhaustion threatened his consciousness with every passing second.

Eventually Shawn fell asleep again, his last awake moment spent coming up with a plan that he was sure would work.

He just needed to rest a little before he started it.

 **PsychPsychPsychPsych**

 **Please, please, PLEASE review!**


	8. Chapter 8

_Thanks to AutumnHaddock for reviewing! You're fantastic and I'm so happy you're liking the story._

 _Back to the story…_

Chief Karen Vick had seen a lot of crimes in her days but none of them had prepared her for this. She'd seen police officers shot and she'd seen many brutal murders that left her sleepless for several nights. This case, however, was a special kind of disturbing.

Someone in this precinct had made a mistake and now two innocent - albeit sometimes aggravating- civilians were in harm's way. Consultants or not, they were civilians in the eyes of the law.

Karen sat her desk, watching in wonder as her entire force dug through files trying to find a link. She hadn't seen them work this hard in years – probably since the first time a certain Psychic team had found themselves in harm's way. Even then tension had been bearable, though, with Guster making jokes and Spencer sometimes playing along.

Henry had taken to working in his old desk, right next to the doors that led to the file room. He'd been there for over 12 hours already, furiously digging through file after file and when he finished a pile, he'd start over. Karen knew his diligence and determination had been what made him such a great cop, but now she could only see chaos in his eyes. He was losing it. They all were.

She felt useless sitting at her desk just watching police work being done, but she'd been given orders from the mayor to watch the computer. He'd been notified of the case hours prior and wanted to avoid the press. The less the perp knew about their investigation, the better. She had agreed with the sentiment, but eventually the media got a hold of the information and were demanding interviews, starting with the Mayor himself.

He was 'unavailable for comment'.

"Chief, we have a lead." Carlton marched in, buttoning his jacket on the way. He reached to shut the door behind him, almost hitting Detective O'Hara in the process. Karen ignored the younger detective's scowl as she leaned forward and motioned for Lassiter to continue. "Dan Capelli is not behind the abduction."

Karen leaned back. "And what makes you say that detectives?"

"Good old reasoning." Juliet answered, crossing her arms and she threw a file towards her superior. Karen's eyebrows shot up at O'Hara's confidence, but looked at the file shortly. It was Dan Capelli's. "You'll notice that Capelli was only a chemist. He wasn't big and strong. He didn't have to be."

"I fail to see-."

"So whoever was on that dock obviously wasn't Dan." Juliet continued, shooting the chief an apologetic smile once she realized that she had interrupted her superior. " _And_ we've located Capelli a few minutes ago. He's been in Reading, Pennsylvania for the past 3 months waiting on our previous investigation to end."

"We tracked his phone records and they're clean. He called his Parole officer, Andy Greer, but no other calls were made from his phone to anywhere near the Santa Barbara area." Lassiter continued for his partner. "This isn't Capelli. I'd even go as far as to assume that this has nothing to do with the drug ring at all."

Karen sat back in her chair, letting the information sink in for a few seconds. "Well that's all fine, detectives, but we're still at square one. If Capelli wasn't behind this, then who was?"

"I think I found something!" Henry shouted from his desk as he waved a file around.

 **PsychPsychPsychPsych**

Shawn's eyes opened slowly. His leg was starting to throb and he was freezing cold. Why was he so cold? Looking around, he didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Well, besides the fact that he was tied to a chair, his leg was bleeding, and he was sure he had a concussion. Besides all of that, everything seemed pretty normal.

He tried to turn his head, but it was pounding so instead he shut his eyes for a few moments. For what felt like a few seconds, his mind grew accustomed to the darkness and his head stopped throbbing. Instead, the pulses were replaced with a faint dull of pain. As long as he didn't focus on it, he should be fine. So, he opened his eyes once more and blinked a few times to get adjusted to the light.

 _Definitely have a concussion._ He thought as he turned his head in the direction of the door. From what he could tell, it seemed to lead to a little kitchen. Shawn scrunched his nose. Boy, was he hungry.

If Gus was here right now and they weren't in this situation, Shawn imagined they'd go out to Red Robin and then on the way back to the Psych Office they'd stop for pineapple smoothies. Shawn's eyes closed slowly as his mouth watered at the thought of his favorite food.

There were so many different things you could do with pineapples. There were cakes and pies and ice cream and smoothies, not to mention just eating it raw. His stomach growled and Shawn's eyes opened once more.

His head whipped around when he heard something bang in the kitchen. Blinking, Shawn thought through all of the possibilities, stopped when he reached one that interested him. Maybe, they were making him waffles and the pan fell. As unlikely as the scenario was, Shawn found himself growing excited. He loved waffles and they'd taste even better since his stomach was practically empty.

Unfortunately, when the door swung open and Col. Mustard came into view, he was not holding a plate of waffles. Shawn frowned. He really had been looking forward to those waffles.

"Mr. Spencer." The man spoke, a small smile hiding in his voice. Shawn wanted to roll his eyes but he decided to save some energy. "Let's talk."

Shawn opened his mouth and was disappointed to realize that it was really dry, making it almost impossible to voice his words. "You're in luck because I'm a great talker."

"So I've heard." The man quipped as he pulled a chair up to sit directly in front of Shawn. As he sat down, he reached behind him onto the coffee table to grab a bottle of water. "I bet you'd like some of this."

Shawn hated how much interest he showed in that water. He didn't want to beg and he definitely didn't want to give the impression that he needed it. But he _did_ need it. He was _so_ thirsty. Before he could give it another thought, his tongue was licking his lips slightly. The man chuckled and unscrewed the cap. Slowly, he bent the water bottle towards Shawn so he could take a few sips.

He pulled it away too soon and Shawn sunk back into his chair.

"Here's how this is going to work." The man murmured, reaching behind him once more to pull out a box of Chips Ahoy cookies. Shawn's mouth watered. "For every satisfactory answer you give me, I'll give you a cookie and some water. That sounds like a good deal."

Shawn blinked. He hated being talked down to. "I kind of had my heart set on waffles."

"For every question you _don't_ answer, we'll have to use this." The man continued, ignoring Shawn's quip as he pulled out a Taser. Shawn had never been tased before although he remembered asking his dad once if he could tase Gus. The answer had been an obvious no. As the man bent forward and placed the Taser onto Shawn's arm, Shawn realized why his dad had said no. _It fucking hurt._

Shawn convulsed for a few seconds before the man pulled back. It took a few more seconds for Shawn to stop shaking and he hung his head in exhaustion and pain. When he watched videos of people being tased, he hadn't imagined it'd hurt so much. Sucking in a deep breath, Shawn looked up again, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Let's get started." The man began; his voice an immediate irritation to Shawn's already annoyed state. Without waiting for an answer, the man continued. "Tell me about Chief Karen Vick."

"There's not a lot to know really." Shawn answered, licking his lips. When he noticed the other man's hand twitch towards the taser, his eyes widened. "That's not a fair question. What _exactly_ do you want to know? Do you care that she has the most comfortable chair that my butt has ever had the pleasure of touching? I don't think so."

The man's lips pursed. "They said you were annoying."

"I prefer the term 'talkative' and 'easily distracted' but that's just me." Shawn couldn't stop the words from flowing out of his mouth. They just kept coming, each one aggravating Col. Mustard more than the last. "I'd even go for immature before I went with _annoying_."

"Your constant inability to take things seriously must get annoying for your friends." the man noted as he brought the Taser up towards Shawn's chest once more. "You have one last chance to answer my question."

Shawn looked down at the taser and then back up at Col. Mustard. "Technically speaking, you never asked me a question."

Shawn's screams filled the room.

 **PsychPsychPsychPsych**

Juliet looked at herself in the mirror, unhappy with what she saw. Sure, she looked the same as always. Her hair was down with her bangs clipped back. She had little makeup on. She was pretty and she knew it to be true. But beneath the makeup, there were dark circles and worry lines.

It'd been 37.5 hours since Gus had been taken and 30 since Shawn had been.

There wasn't a lot of evidence and there wasn't much any of them could do besides wait for another feed. Henry had found a lead but it was a long shot so Karen sent both Juliet and her partner back home for the night. Juliet had tried to follow the chief's orders and sleep but she was too worried.

Gus, for one, wasn't emotionally strong enough to deal with this. He sobbed when someone else did. He was too innocent. Too good. Shawn on the other hand seemed to live only annoy. If you asked anyone, he had this coming to him. But that didn't mean he deserved it.

Juliet sighed and shut the light off in her bathroom and retreated into her bedroom. There was so much to do and so little time. Gus had been gone a while now and Shawn had been shot. Who knew how much time either of them had left?

How in the world did the chief expect both herself and Lassiter to stop working? Juliet huffed and went into her kitchen to pour herself some coffee. She would not sleep. She'd solve this case.

Licking her lips as her coffee began to brew, she pulled her phone out of her pocket to see that she had three messages from Carlton. She smiled. Of course he wasn't going to listen to the Chief either. Too much was at stake for that.

Before she could hit 'call back', she heard a noise coming from her garden. The kids in the neighborhood had been experimenting with ding-dong ditching, so Juliet sighed and reached for a mug. Perhaps if she'd had more sleep, she would've taken more note of the noise. Maybe if her stomach wasn't empty, she would've put more thought into where it was coming from and the noises that followed it.

Perhaps, if her mind wasn't spinning in all different directions, she would have noticed the man that was now standing behind her in her kitchen. Before she realized him, he was already reaching to grab her.

As a cloth was brought to her face, Juliet realized she had no chance of getting away. It was too late. She was already falling asleep.

 **PsychPsychPsychPsych**

 **Yay! So halfway through writing this, I remembered the Scary Sherry episode and how Shawn and Gus ran out of the house screaming. So if you need me, I'll be watching that again (for the millionth time) while I clean my room.**

 **Please review. It's so hard to write when you think only one person is reading it.**


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